


On Broken Wings

by Dirtykinkylove



Series: Taboo [2]
Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Incest, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirtykinkylove/pseuds/Dirtykinkylove
Summary: James has always loved his sister a little too fiercely, so their father sought to separate them. How can you separate a man from his soul?





	On Broken Wings

James brushed his fingers across Zilpha's silken cheek, relishing the warmth of her skin. She flushed easily, her black lashes fluttering down to hide her thoughts from the intrusion of others; never him. At fifteen she was the jewel in the Delaney crown, a slyph of a girl who would bear the heirs to a dukedom if their father was to be believed.

James clenched his hidden hand into a fist at the thought.

Zilpha was too precious to be used as a broodmare for the man who neglected her care, leaving her to languish beneath the cold indifference of a governess who belittled and whipped her for the slightest infractions, using the young girl as a substitute for her own failures and repressed desires. James had come upon his sobbing sister, her delicate body bowed down like a bird with a broken wing, and clutched her to him as petal soft lips whispered about the scars of abuse. 

A wicked satisfaction curled through the older man as he thought about Miss Katherine Wright's comeuppance and his sister's gratitude.

"What makes you smile so widely, brother?"

The words were a flirt, a tease, her use of his familial title a spur to drive him wild. 

"Broken things," he quipped, leaning closer still, the velvet of his breeches catching on the muslim of her dress. Clinging.

Dark eyes flashed to his and her slippered feet took the tiniest of steps forward, closing the gap so even light couldn't pass between their bodies. 

"Do you enjoy...breaking...things?"

Her breath was fresh with a hint of the exotic orange slices she must have sampled at the Forrester's ball tonight. He tasted the air passing from her lungs to his and relished the idea of holding even this minute particle of her being within him. It was only right that he protect every portion of her loveliness from the top of her glossy raven hair down to her smallest toes; by right and blood she  _belonged_ to him.

"Only if it is deserved. Otherwise, I prefer to ... appreciate."

The tip of her tongue peeked out and licked at the curve of her cupid bow shaped upper lip. 

"What do you appreciate most?"

 _You_. It was instinctive, primal, and the only truth James knew. Zilpha was the beacon that guided him through the treacherous waters of life, a sense of home he'd lost when his mother passed from this world to the that of her ancestors.

His truth was passed between them as quick as a thought despite no words being uttered and pleasure dimpled her cheeks at his admission. 

James bowed before the inevitability of it all, and staked his claim, hands gentle despite the brutal strength inherent in them as he clasped his sister to him, though this time with a far less altruistic bent in mind.

Zilpha swayed in his embrace like a willow in the wind, gracefully bending before his hunger even as she met him with her own desire, slender arms twined around his shoulders as he took her mouth with his.

 _Mine_ was a shared thought, a fragment of a wider and darker  _knowing_ , the taste of their father's blood as heady as the wine they'd drank before slipping into his chambers, knife in their (his) hand, the great thumping heart stopped by a quick slide of the blade through the ribcage and angled upward. They (he) had no intention of prolonging his life - or death - more than necessary. They (she) weren't cruel enough.

Her thighs were smooth and girlish against his skin as he palmed the heated treasure between them, his hands wet with more than just her satisfaction, _relishing_   the delicate moans filtering from her throat as she threw her head back and trusted him to take her weight. 

Several delicious and heated moments later, Zilpha came back to herself, delicate fingers tracing the hardened shape of him beneath the fabric separating them. She licked his neck where he was stained and dirty, cleansing him of the mortal sin of patricide, even as she eased beneath his breeches and took him fully in hand.  A stroke and twist at the end nearly shattered him until the silkiness of her cunt clenched around him, an action he hadn't even realized he'd taken.

Or maybe she did. They did. Together. As together now as they were when Father found them twined like an ouroboros, no beginning or end, the outrage in his voice incomprehensible. She was his and he was hers and they were  _they_. How could he not see? Blood was blood was blood.

There was no place for sadness at the passing of their parent as Father could no more stem the tide than he could keep them apart. James wouldn't allow  _anyone_ to take Zilpha from him and he would burn the world around them if anyone tried.

"Shhh, brother, so fierce," Zilpha whispered against his cheek, the wildness of their coupling evident in the thundering beat at her neck. "Take me away from here."

Here was more than the bloody scene of their father's death.  _Here_ was where they were nearly parted, nearly forced to endure life without the other. No. There was no more here.

The only place left was  _there._


End file.
